Love's to Blame
by But We Lost Ourselves
Summary: Zach knew that having a relationship with Cammie was a very bad idea. He knew that the stakes were too high, he knew that the circumstances were too dire, and, most importantly, he knew that they were two completely different people going in two completely different directions. Zach knew all of these things, but he also knew that he loved her. That was why he knew he had to leave.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N... Alrighty. Gah, it's been ages, you guys. Life happened, I guess. Anyways. Here's the very tiny beginning of what will be a very long song fic (but probably not the longest of stories). This is probably one of the shortest if not the shortest of the chapters, but you gotta start somewhere right? XD Without further ado...**

_"Time and time I've thought through it all, how we laughed and loved..."_

The corner of his mouth tugged down agitatedly as he watched his target hug a girlfriend goodbye across the green of Central Park. He'd seen them do it before. That and much more, unfortunately; he had been tailing the guy for two weeks, and the target liked to have time with this young lady. And the seven other young ladies that he also snuck around with.

It disgusted Zach—how the man could so easily jump from one girl to another and not get discovered for the scumbag he was. If he hadn't already had a big red target painted on his forehead for other reasons, Zach would have already taken the matter of the douche into his own hands.

There were many things that Zach couldn't handle those days, and men who abused the privilege of a serious girlfriend were near, if not at the top, of that list.

His fists clenched together as the target kissed the girl, and if he hadn't known better, Zach would have believed that the target did it on purpose—looking like that Jimmy guy and finding an array of girlfriends with the same build, hair, and skin color as Cammie.

But Zach did know better, and when the guy whispered something to the girl that made her laugh, instead of smiling at the couple's antics, he just frowned more deeply. The girl's laugh wasn't like Cammie's. He found himself to be both very relieved and very troubled by this.

Relief in knowing that it wasn't Cammie, even though he could feel that it wasn't in the first place, but misery because he knew he would never see her again. Well, not if he had anything to do with it.

It was bittersweet, thinking of her laugh. It's not that he didn't do it often; he thought of her all the time, yet somehow this time it was different.

Zach knew it would have never worked out. He told himself that every time he started thinking of her again. Every time he started playing their time together through his head.

From the beginning, he knew it was a bad idea. They were from two completely different places, and they were headed to places even farther away from each other.

Watching the target's girlfriend laugh, he realized that he and Cammie had never laughed together like that. Not truly.

They had laughed, but they hadn't been and never would have been carefree. They had laughed, but it was always short-lived. Always clouded by the Circle and tragedy and worry. They had loved, but only as people who have much more important things to occupy their minds could love.

'_That's why. That's why it wouldn't have worked_,' he shook his head, mad that he'd let himself get distracted. 'S_he's a spy and I'm a murderer. We don't have time to love_.' He picked up the pace to catch up to the target, who'd walked a ways away while he was caught up in his thoughts.

That was why. They distracted each other. She distracted him. All the time. It made him sloppy, even two years later.

He didn't regret her, but he hated her for distracting him. The hate disguised the love well. He knew that one day she would get him killed.

He didn't know if he even minded even more.

**So there ya go. I'll do my best to update ASAP because I know this was really short, but I leave for NFL Nationals in Birmingham today ****(whoop whoop! Anyone else going?) and it's going to be a lonnnggggg busy week. Haha.**

**Thanks for reading! Please review, even though it was short. Opinions are greatly appreciated. **

**~Inez**

**DISCLAIMER- I do not, nor will I ever own the Gallagher Girls series. In the event of me finally convincing Ally to trade me the rights for pop and unlimited Panera, I'll let you know. Until then this will be my only disclaimer because things won't change. Also, I regret to inform you that I did not write "Love's To Blame." The lovely Australian Smallbone brothers of for King&Country did.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N... So now that the story's really about to start, I'd like to start this off with a sort of disclaimer. I think that despite how Ally has developed his character in more recent books, Zachary Goode is still the most mysterious and misunderstood member of Cammie's entourage. I'm not saying that Macey, Bex, and Liz get credit where credit is due, because they don't. But I AM saying that the void that is Zach's character fascinates me. Sometimes I think we get so caught up in the romance of him turning against his mom for Cammie that we don't really take time to wonder about why his life is the way it is in the first place. Sometimes I think about how he was raised and the fact that despite everything, he IS still an assassin above everything else and about how every day must be a struggle against everything he's ever been taught. I think Zach deserves a deeper look. I think he deserves more credit where credit is due. I think there's more to him than what meets the eye. And I think Ally meant for us to wonder. (And sorry about this super long A/N.)**

_~~~"And how we fought each other, pushing one another to be somebody else..."~~~_

"Don't you ever wish that you'd grown up differently?" Cammie rapped her knuckles distractedly along the stone ledge of the window in the pigeon shed. When there was no reply, she turned her head with that look on her face—that carefree gaze that Zach knew wasn't carefree at all. "Zach?"

He felt a twinge of irritation shoot through his veins. He didn't like to worry about things that could have been. He'd done plenty of that in the past, and it hadn't gotten him anywhere.

"_Zach_."

He knew what she wanted; the question was baited, and she wanted a yes. But that would have been a lie, and she'd asked him not to keep any more secrets. He couldn't break a promise. "No," he said simply, walking up to the sill beside her and gazing out a the gray weather and the Gallagher lawn, "no, I don't."

He felt her go rigid, felt the tension in the air grow, and he knew he'd said the wrong thing. She whipped around to face him, face contorted in confusion and frustration. "What? Why not?"

He sighed. "Because, Gallagher Girl. There's no point. It wouldn't change anything."

She bit her lip and furrowed her brow, "But things could have been so much better for you. You could have had—"

Zach knew that she was just trying to cope. He knew that she was almost always rational. A little too rational sometimes. He knew that sometimes she just needed a break from the habit. He knew the feelings she was having because he'd gone though them himself. But he didn't like people trying to meddle in his life—not his personal life and past—even if they were Cammie.

"Cam, I _know_ that I could have had. I don't care. It doesn't matter. Despite my screwed up past and my screwed up family, I don't think I've turned out that badly. And that's all I care about now. Now is all I care about." He took her hand, only for her to yank it away.

"How could you say that? How could you say they don't matter?" She was backing away, and Zach knew that somehow, he had said something very, very wrong. She wasn't thinking rationally, and if he was honest with himself, neither was he. Because he cared about a lot more than just 'now.' They'd both just been subjected to excessive pressure over the previous weeks to still be thinking rationally.

"Cammie, your dad did matter. He will always matter. He was an amazing man. No one will ever be able to take that from you. He's still with you," he backtracked, sensing that she was taking things out of context. It was almost as if she wanted a fight.

Then she crumpled.

"I know," she sighed, "I just like to think... Maybe if things were different. Maybe if your dad had stuck around and your mom had been a decent human being... Maybe he would be here... Maybe things could be different."

This struck something in Zach that hadn't been struck in a while. He was usually too busy hating his mother to acknowledge that she had birthed him and cared for him in his young years all by herself. Even if she was one of the most evil women in the world, she'd saved his life on several occasions. And she had initially done the best she could for him.

"You know, she's still my mother, Cam. You can't change that. I may wish her dead sometimes, but she's my mother. I still love her." He knew he shouldn't have said it, but it spilled out before he could stop it.

Her mouth opened and closed several times in shock, and he felt a surge of guilt rush through him. Cammie had no way of knowing that Zach was the reason his mother had joined the Circle in the first place. He never wanted her to know that. It was one of the two secrets he could still justify keeping from her.

And then his mouth opened involuntarily again and made it even worse. "You change her, you change me, Gallagher Girl. I try to think that in a world where we spend all of our time worrying about you, I should be allowed the one luxury of being myself."

It was a jerkish move, he knew. But Zach had grown up mastering the art of being a jerk. He'd been taught from birth to remain indifferent towards others' feelings. And as much as he'd been trying to fight it off, if only for Cammie's sake, sometimes when people pushed too hard, his heart turned cold and his mind turned sharp and his mouth did what it had always been taught to do.

He was, after all, a Blackthorne boy. They had, after all, used the tombs at one point. '_We really don't use them anymore_' had, after all, really meant '_we haven't used them in two years_.'

"I... I..." Cammie was hardly ever speechless. After all, she was a spy, and any kind of forcing—even of words—came easily. "I'm... I don't... You don't..." Zach had never spoken to her in the manner that he just had. He'd snapped.

Zachary Goode never snapped.

Suddenly, as if a lightbulb snapped back on in his head and heart, his emotions came flooding back through him and he finally realized exactly what he'd just done. He'd seen her want a fight, so he'd gone into autopilot and stepped up to the plate. His mom had never told him not to fight a girl. Joe had only told him to try not to hit one unless necessary.

But he, himself? He knew better. Hurting Cammie was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

She looked upset, although not close to tears, because she was not easy to cry. But her eyes showed it all as they grew colder and more guarded, and her clinched fists and on-guard posture made her seem like she was going to bolt at any second.

"Oh god," Zach turned around, unable to face her. He raked a hand violently through his hair and muttered. "I didn't mean to say that. I shouldn't have said that."

It was the first true fight they'd had. They'd had arguments of course, but that was when much more was at stake. They'd never had petty fights. And Zach guessed that the reason it threw him was because he wasn't ever expecting them to.

He also guessed that the reason they had let every tension-filled remark roll off out of their mouths was because they were both more comfortable with one another than with anyone else.

"You didn't _mean_ to? So you still meant to think it?"

He whirled around, sensing the mood turn to a much more critical state. "Cammie, I didn't mean that," he took her shoulders in his grip and held her, knowing that otherwise she would have taken a run for it. "You _know_ I didn't mean that." He was pleading. Zachary Goode rarely pleaded.

"I don't know, Zach. She's still your mother. I can't change that."

And then she was gone.

**So there it is... The full chapter. We got to Birmingham more quickly than expected and had spare time. Anyways. Review? Pretty please? And thank you to 'and bonfires lit up the shores' and 'BunnySwag101' for reviewing! I appreciate it more than you know! :) (And this will be a sadish story at first. But it'll have happy points mixed throughout. And a happy ending. I think. Haha)**

**~Inez**


	3. Chapter 3

_~~~And time and time I've wrestled my thoughts, uncertain if the end was right or wrong and whether we still should be together or with somebody else...~~~_

The target was drawing closer to the location; Zach knew that in exactly 1 minute 47 seconds, the man would stop in front of the alley door of the Brooklyn brownstone that housed his communication hub.

So Zach decided that he would meet him there. He was tired of playing games. Taking the back way, he edged along the side of the alleyway, and when the man stepped up to the door, just on time, he found the butt of a gun pressed into his temple as Zach wrenched his arms behind him.

Zach was careful, of course. Never sloppy. He wore specially made clothes that would leave no residue. He made sure that the pavement of the alley was clear and that his steps wouldn't leave any footprints. He'd disabled every security camera within a half-mile radius that morning and implanted a bug in each to ensure that it wouldn't work for 24 hours. He wore leather gloves, had a silencer on his gun, and had eyes as cold as steel.

He didn't like killing, but it paid the bills. He knew how to handle the guilt. He knew how to handle the backlash. He'd killed more in his time than he could remember simply because he had forced himself to forget.

"What do you want?" The man snapped, as if having the butt if a gun bruising his temple was a regular occurrence. "I can give you money."

Zach laughed at this. He was in his zone, and when that happened, he wasn't himself. He was nothing but a cold blooded killer. "You and I both know that I don't care anything about your money, Bartels."

"You have to have me alive, you know?" The target tried to turn his head, but Zach pushed it back with his gun. "You don't know the codes and the passwords and the languages."

Once again, Zach laughed. "I cracked all of your codes this morning. I've known all of your passwords for the past three months. I speak every written language in the world, and most of the non-written. I don't need you for anything. In fact, I already have everything I need."

"You and I both know that's a lie. And so does the girl you left back in your apartment." The man's statement wasn't cruel. It was tired. "Just do what you have to do, Zach."

The one thing Zach couldn't do after he killed someone was look them in the eye. So after the deed was gone, he didn't. But the man's words still haunted him all the way home.

* * *

"Where've you been?"

The words were neither accusatory or inquisitive. The girl already knew she wasn't going to get an answer.

"Out," Zach muttered, making a beeline for the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of scotch. It was somewhat of a habit for him; scotch when he killed someone, scotch when he thought too hard about Cammie. Because in a way, they were both the same. The only difference was with the latter, he was just killing himself.

"_Zach_," the girl sighed tiredly, and it made him wonder why she even bothered. She knew that no matter how many times they were together, he was always really somewhere else with someone else entirely.

"What?" He muttered, sinking down onto a bar stool and cradling his head in his hands as if he'd been battling a very bad headache for a very long time.

And although he was still practically a stranger to her, she knew him well enough to understand that heartache was the real problem. That's why she very carefully insisted, "You need closure."

He muttered a nearly-silent "Damn it" under his breath in Farsi, then spun on the stool to face her.

"Out."

Her face screwed in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"I said _OUT_. Now."

He should have known this would happen. It happened with every girl. It happened every damn time. They always acted like they didn't mind that he was practically a ghost until they started insisting that he get over Cammie. And every single time, as soon as they mentioned it—as soon as they started wearing out their welcome—he sent them packing.

He'd gained quite a reputation over the two years since Cammie. The sexy, mysterious charmer on the upper east side who always had an open bed but never had an open heart. Which was fine, because he still could smile just enough to convince a new girl that she would be the one to change his ways. He still could always have a backup to back up all of the other replacements that never seemed to help steer his mind away from who he so badly wanted to forget.

Sometimes it made him think that he shouldn't have ever broken it off with Cammie; sometimes it made him wonder if she was just as miserable as he was; sometimes it made him wonder why he even tried with all of the other girls when he knew that none would ever help heal him.

Sometimes he wondered if Cammie was having the exact same problem.

But then that made him wonder if she had another man in her bed. If she knew how many women he'd had in his.

That's when he got his scotch so that he wouldn't have to wonder at all.

**A/N: So this one's short, and I'm sorry. It just kind of fell that way. But I'm done actually COMPETING at NFL nats, so I aught to have plenty of time to chill and write between judging JH. Which is good. :) Also, shoutout to Darkstar Icefire 88 for reviewing (your username makes me think of Brother Bear and I don't know why. Haha) and to all of those who followed/favorited. :)**

**Anyways. I hope you enjoyed, however short. **

**Please review! :)**

**~Inez**


	4. Chapter 4

**Alrighty... To answer some reviews VERY quickly before the chapter because I know long answery thingies can get annoying to some people... I'm not naming names, but you'll know which reply's yours! :) **

**Yes! This is Zammie! Eventually it'll have a happy ending. I hope. XD **

**Zach has a darker past than many expect... (A bunch of will come to light this chapter)**

**Aww! That's so sweet! :) thank you so much! But hold your horses. They haven't broken up yet. They just had a fight. Haha. We'll get to the breakup soon. (Hint hint)**

**Rambling is good. I do it all the time. KEEP RAMBLING! I'LL LISTEN GLADLY! (Or, you know... Read gladly... XD)**

**That's it. Thank you to everyone who reviewed/followed/favorited! :)**

**Happy reading...**

_~~~Our last memory, she had water in her eyes. She cried, "Stay with me," and asked, "how can this be love if you're leaving me?" But darling, love's to blame...~~~_

Zach had nearly driven himself crazy with it all day; he didn't know how to bring it up, but he did know that he didn't want to. He wanted things to stay just the way they were.

But after the last stunt that his mom had pulled, he knew that wasn't possible anymore. She wasn't safe being anywhere around him.

He had delayed going home all day simply because he knew what would be waiting for him there. Zachary Goode had already seen his fair share of goodbyes. He knew Cam would probably be worried about him, but he didn't want to see her. Not yet.

Because he knew it'd be the last time.

Not to be misunderstood—Zach had broken nearly as many hearts in his time as he'd put a bullet through, but this time was different. This time mattered, unlike all of the other summer flings that he'd had in the past. This time was Cammie.

And this time, he didn't want to have to stop the clock.

As he walked the dark streets of DC, he found his feet to be involuntarily taking him to the most rational place out of habit; they knew he'd have to confront the situation at some point or another.

As he climbed the steps to the townhouse, he cursed himself for ever getting into the mess. For ever letting himself fall when falling was the exact opposite of what he'd been asked to do.

He unlocked the door and entered, kicking his shoes off, hanging up his coat beside hers on the coatrack, and sliding the deadbolt locked before starting towards the kitchen.

He was stopped in his tracks when he heard Cammie speak. "Oh, thank God. I was worried sick," she trotted down the stairs two at a time, wet hair loose around her shoulders, casting dark splotches onto the light gray of one of his tshirts.

He couldn't help but think of how beautiful she looked then, happy to see him home and even happier to see that he was okay. More than anything, he wanted to scoop her up into his arms, kiss her senseless, and never let go.

But that was far from what he had to do, so he decided to ease his way into what he most needed to say.

"Really, Gallagher Girl? First you take my best jacket, and now you start taking my shirts?" He knew the smirk was already on his face and that his eyes were dancing with amusement despite his recent depression.

Cammie blushed, carefully stepping down the last two steps to the foyer. "Well, I forgot mine when I went to take a shower, and you left the one you slept in last night in the bathroom this morning, so I just—"

"_Cam_. It's fine," he cut off her embarrassed babbling, laughing at how red she had become.

Despite popular suspicion, Zach and Cammie were a very innocent couple. They only lived together for safety precaution. Had someone asked Cammie about the situation, she would have (maybe even quite proudly) explained that there had never been any sharing of beds of any sort, and had someone asked Zach about the situation, he would have (maybe even a little ashamedly) explained that she wanted to wait, and he respected that, even though he hadn't ever waited in the past.

Once Cammie had recovered from her embarrassment, she bit her lip one last time and asked, "Where've you been?" Her eyes didn't demand an answer because she knew that she might not get one.

"I took a walk after work. Long day. I just needed some time to think." He couldn't meet her eyes as he said it, so he stared at the Gallagher family crest hanging on the delicate silver chain around her neck.

"Oh, okay." She was puzzled, but she didn't press him. She gave him space. That's one of the things he loved most about her. "Well, your dinner is in the microwave so that it doesn't get cold." She smiled up at him softly and reached up to fix an unruly piece of his hair. As she traced her fingers down the side of his face, he couldn't help but think of how content they both were. He knew that this was what he wanted for the rest of his life.

She stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss him, but he gently put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down again. Her brow scrunched in confusion, which sent a pang through his heart. "Cam, we need to talk."

She immediately went rigid. "I swear, whatever Bex told you about Tel Aviv, don't listen to her. She knew that I don't hold my liquor well. I promise that I didn't—"

Zach had to force himself not to laugh. "Cammie. Tel Aviv really doesn't matter anymore."

"Oh thank Go—wait. You _knew_?"

"Cammie, Bex was there. Of course I knew." He sighed and shook his head, and knew that there was no right or easy way to put what he was about to say, so he just blurted it out. "We need to talk about _this_. About us," he let his hands drop from her shoulders, defeated.

She laughed. She actually had the nerve to laugh. But the laugh was extremely nervous, and she had taken a step back. "What are you talking about?"

Her tone was normal, which was the thing that scared him most of all. "Is this your terrible way of proposing, because I had pictured at least candles or you down on a knee or roses or dinner or at least an _"I love you_" or somethi—"

He fought the urge to both laugh and cry at the same time. "Cammie, I'm not proposing."

The fact that she wanted him to—that she'd thought about it—blew his mind, even though it shouldn't have. He knew that they were in love, but he'd never believed that she was hoping for the same future that he was.

Even though she didn't realize what she was doing, she was about to convince him to not follow through and to just selfishly keep her for himself no matter the consequences. That is, until she saw his expression.

"Then what are you... Oh, God." Her voice cracked in realization.

Zach just sighed and shook his head again, then sank down against the stairs' banister. He held his head in his hands, wondering why he'd ever opened up the can of worms that could never be closed again. He needed to shut down, but Cammie had broken down those walls so many times that it was nearly impossible for him to build them up between them again.

He didn't have to say anything, though. She knew him too well. She already knew what it was all about. "This is about your mom, isn't it?" She pointed an accusing finger at him, and shook her head. "You think that by being with me, she can hurt me more." She laughed a cruel, hysterical laugh.

That's when Zach realized that he wasn't the the only one that had been thinking about his mom and the danger she posed. This gave fuel to his nearly-extinguished fire, and he grabbed onto it in a haze of reluctant eagerness. "_See_? You agree as well. She can't be trusted."

Cammie tapped her bare foot in frustration. "So your mom's evil, Zach. What does that have to do with us? It has nothing to do with u—"

"It has _everything_ to do with us!" Zach snapped, finally finding strength to shut down and blurt the secrets that he knew would bring their relationship to a close.

"What are you talking about? It's not like she's going to be any less set on killing me if we aren't together."

"You remember when I said that I was all out of secrets?" Zach motioned for her to sit down, knowing that this was going to get long no matter how quickly he tried to rush and get it over with.

She raised eyebrow. "Yeah."

"I lied." He half-laughed an ironic sort of sound that rang in the air. "I'm the reason she did it. She's the reason I did it."

"Did what? _Zach_," Cammie reached out as if to take his arm, but he flinched away, "you aren't making any sense."

He just laughed harder, knowing that even though his walls were higher than ever, it was the only way he was going to be able to keep from crying.

"I'm the reason she is the way she is. Did you think she volunteered for a life of high crime? Hell no." He paused for a breath before making himself push on, letting it all spill out.

"She got raped on a mission and found out that she was pregnant with me. A Circle member approached her after the CIA fired her because she wouldn't get an abortion, and she didn't have any other option. She was just trying to find a way to survive and support a bastard son.

She wasn't always like this, you know? She was a good mom. Still would be if I hadn't decided to run as fast as I could when I realized who she was turning into. They _brainwash_ people, Cammie. It's horrific, and I don't think you understand that." His voice had grown cold and unfeeling, as if he was reciting a speech he'd told thousands of times, even though she was the only person he'd ever told it to.

He didn't really register what he'd said until she stood up and started pacing, then turned and pointed an accusing finger at him again for the second time that night. "How _dare_ you say that I wouldn't understand how they brainwash people! I was under the control of them for half a year because of their brainwashing that I don't '_understand_'!" She was yelling, and he knew that he'd hit a nerve that he hadn't ever hit before, but the fact that she was belittling him just made him instinctively press harder.

He stood up abruptly, catching her off guard. "Oh yeah? Try being raised from _birth_ brainwashed and then realizing when you meet a girl in an elevator 17 years later that everything you'd ever been taught was wicked and wrong. Try _that_, Cameron, because I _really_ don't think you could understand."

They weren't behaving like themselves. Zach normally would have never allowed those things to even cross his mind, but his assassin mode had kicked in for the first time in years: the first time since their last irrational argument in the pigeon shed. When he was an assassin, he was out for the killer blow, and his brain didn't allow his heart to process who it was being inflicted upon.

Cammie normally would have never pushed Zach; she knew how fragile he was when it came to sharing things about his past, but this time it seemed as if she was unable to stop. "Oh, you think that you can say that you met me and that made it all better?" The remark was snide and dripping in sarcasm off of her lips, which was probably what made Zach reply with a simple answer.

"No. You made it worse, actually."

"Excuse me?"

"You made it much, _much_ worse. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I still had to do it. I knew my mother was horrible, but I still had to watch her kill innocent people and not say anything. I knew that she had something up her sleeve when she told me to watch for you—when she told me to make sure that I got close to you. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know any other thing to do other than obey orders. I saw you and met you and knew you and it just made me feel more and more guilty about what I was doing. You made it all so much _worse_."

The silence after the revelation rang for what seemed like ages. Zach was beginning to wonder whether or not she caught what he'd just revealed. But Cammie was, after all, a Gallagher Girl and was not meant to be underestimated.

"You... You... You... You noticed me because you were _instructed_ to...?" She was shaking her head, disbelieving what she had heard, but when she finally looked up, her eyes met Zach's, and she stopped dead in her tracks. "Oh... Oh... Oh god... I am such and _idiot_... I... I can't believe..." She started up the stairs, muttering about what an idiot she had been for believing in something that was so obviously a lie.

He should have left her be. He should have left then, while things were simple. He should have left her to believe that he had never cared for her and that he was no better than his mother. But even with his walls up, the scouts posted at the top could still see down to her and call down to his heart that he was breaking her. And he couldn't do that. He couldn't live with her thinking that she had been nothing.

"_Cammie, wait_," he called desperately, and she paused on the stairs but didn't turn around. He breathed in a large gulp of air, then out again slowly, knowing that he was selfish for not being able to leave without making things look at least a little better on his part.

"At first, yeah. You were a mission. But I gave it up halfway through the semester. I couldn't take it, betraying you. The ball. The day before that, I had told Dr. Steve that I was quitting. That I couldn't exploit you any more. That I definitely couldn't kill you. He yelled at me about how infuriated my mom would be, but I told him to screw it. That it was over. That I wanted to be a part of your life, not my mom's. He told me to give it one more day.

"That's why they came. _That's_ why the Code Black happened. That's why I was there with you that night. Because I was supposed to take you to them, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it."

He paused and took a shaky breathe, prepared to push on, but she turned and met his eyes with her tear filled ones, and his will collapsed.

"You were the one other person that Joe meant when he said that only two had ever made it out of the Circle alive."

He gave her a small half-smile, amazed that out of all he had just given her, she anchored onto that one tiny detail. "Well... I haven't been killed _yet_," he said, then sobered again.

"At any rate, that's why she hates you so much. She got the list, but that isn't all she wants. She wants revenge. And as long as she feels like you're taking me from her, she's going to be dead-set on getting it."

"But... But if you gave up her for me, why give me up too?" Cammie bit her lip as if he hadn't meant to say it, but it had come tumbling out anyway.

"Don't you see?" Zach sighed tiredly.

"See _what_?" She was nearly hysterical again, and Zach wished that he'd just left it alone and left while he had the chance. "I don't understand how you leaving would get us anywhere. You aren't going to leave, are you?"

"Cammie, if I leave, she'll stop bothering you," he explained slowly, carefully, as if trying to sell a product he knew was no good.

"You and I both know that's a lie, Zachary Goode. Don't you _dare_ lie to me," she yelled, then her voice cracked and she was soft again as the tears finally spilled over her cheeks. "You can't leave. She'll never leave me alone. Don't give her the satisfaction of getting her way and an easier ability to kill me, too. You have to stay with me!"

"No, Cammie. That's where you're wrong. The only thing I have to do is what I feel will keep you most safe. I couldn't ever live with myself if anything ever happened to you. I love you too much to see you hurt because of something I could have prevented."

"Love?" She hiccuped, and all he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms, wipe her tears away, and whisper that one little phrase he'd been dying to tell her for years over and over into her ear. It was crushing him to see her crying. "_LOVE_?" She said it with a voice so quiet that it scared him a little. "How can this be love if you're leaving? If you love me, why are you leaving me?"

Rationally, he knew that his claims made sense. He knew that he'd reasoned correctly, and he also knew that no matter how ridiculous it seemed, he truly was doing what was best.

He explained again that if it was what would keep her safe, he would give her up. So he did. He kissed her one last time, slowly and sweetly, holding onto every last moment he had with her. When they pulled apart, their lips and cheeks were warmed in a way that called for the immediate rekindling of connection, but he knew that if he kissed her again, he wouldn't ever be able to leave.

So he opened her palm, took out the only thing in his pockets other than his billfold and pressed it against her warm, shaking hand, closing her fingers around it before she could get a glimpse of what it was.

With one last look, he grabbed his coat off the rack and called the last words he would ever speak to her, managing to keep his watery eyes in check despite the tears pouring out of hers. "Don't cry... Love's to blame."

He prayed that he wouldn't ever see her again.

**Um... So... Yeah... Review? **

**Please? **

**~Inez**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Alrighty... Here we go again! ;) Just to clear up a couple of things. I hope that it's obvious, but each chapter alternates time periods. The first, third, etc... are what's currently going on with Zach, and the even chapters are flashbacks. AND notice something about the very end of last chapter. Something that Zach did. It'll be important soon! *hinthint***

**A few short replies to a few reviews. You know who you are. Haha. Thanks to everyone for reviewing and favoriting and following! It makes my day! :)**

**Thank you for thinking it wasn't cliche! I was kinda worried about that. Haha. **

**Yup. It's Zammie. **

**Dance! Dance is awesome! :) (I took tap with the current Miss Arkansas when I was little, but then I got kicked out because I wasn't good enough and then I moved. Tragic. XD ) All rambling aside (seriously keep rambling. It makes my day.) thank you so much! :) that's exactly what I was trying to go for!**

**I try to think outside of the box when I can. Cliche Zachs are precious and I appreciate them like every other teenage hopeless romantic, but sometimes I feel bad for him because he's usually either a total complete sweetheart with no faults or a complete bad boy. Haha. Anyways THANKS! :)**

**Why, you ask? You'll see. **

**Okay. Sorry that got longer than I thought. **

**Happy reading! :)**

_ ~~~And I can't see you right now 'cause I just can't face it. Can't be near you right now 'cause I know you're no longer mine... I can't see you...~~~_

She had gotten out quickly; after all, they'd only known one another for a week, and she couldn't exactly move in all of her things in a relationship that lasted for that short amount of time.

Zach got his fill of scotch quickly; he may have drank to forget, but he wasn't a drunk, and it didn't take much to fill his need.

He figured that the time was prime enough for finding a solution to his present state of loneliness, so he showered and brushed his teeth, then made his way to the nearest event. The New York Symphony Orchestra was holding a charity benefit at Carnegie Hall, and while it normally wasn't his scene, he was desperate to clear his mind.

That, and ever since the ball his sophomore year at Gallagher, classical music had always reminded him of Cammie.

When he got to the doors, he just flashed his smile and an extra hundred dollar bill instead of an invitation to the black-tie gala, and he was ushered in grandly, escorted to a seat just rows from the stage.

Perfect. The orchestra would be so loud that he wouldn't be able to hear his own thoughts. It was perfect.

But it wasn't. Because suddenly, as if it had just burst out of no where, he head a laugh that sounded like the tinkling of the world's most beautiful bells chime, as he heard a snarky Bristish accent complain that theaters in America were a 'bloody embarrassment' compared to the Crown's.

Zach would have known that laugh anywhere. He knew the delicate, certain voice as it playfully mused, "Hmm... I guess I should have taken you to see Radio City instead."

Still, after everything, she had her beautiful sense of humor. That made him smile through his panic.

He couldn't see her. He had done his absolute best to avoid her after their relationship ended, and he had ultimately succeeded. The chances of him running into her in Carnegie Hall were nearly unthinkable. Yet there she was.

Zach cursed himself. He shouldn't have thrown out Allyssa. Or was it Alena? Whatever her name was, he should have just let it slide for a night. He shouldn't have given into his guilty pleasure to come watch the orchestra. He shouldn't have bribed the admittance woman, he should have gone to the door with the grumpy old man instead. His regrets were cut off by the British voice he knew to be Bex.

"I can't believe the way you wound that guy around your finger to get us seats up here. I'm impressed. Little Cammie's finally getting game."

Zach went rigid. He was so stiff and his head was filling with steam so quickly that he honestly felt like he was going to faint. And Zachary Goode didn't faint. He let out a shuttering breath and forced himself to act natural. The more normal he acted, the less likely they would be to notice him. As long as they couldn't hear his heart beating out of control.

He couldn't see her. He couldn't take it. He stared straight ahead, unwilling to even risk a glance. She would break him if he did; he knew it.

Cammie laughed again and sighed. "I don't know about all that, now..."

Baxter's voice took on a sly tone, and Zach could just picture one of her eyebrows arched and her mouth curling up into a smirk even more devious than his own. "Maybe you lied. Maybe you and Zach _did_ have some stuff going on behind closed bedroom doors wh—"

"Really?" Cammie snapped, obviously agitated. "Really, Bex? I know what you're trying to do. Can we not go one night without you trying to fish what happened between us out of me?"

She took a deep breath, as if preparing to go on a long spiel. "I'm perfectly content. I don't have time for a relationship anyway. I'm fine. I don't need anyone after Zach. I don't need _any_ guy. I've learned about hurt enough. Leave it alone."

Zach felt a mixture of emotions sting through him as he soaked in what she said. He couldn't decide whether to be happy or sad, irritated or satisfied, disappointed or relieved.

He should have been glad that she had respected him enough not to tell anyone about what he'd told her, but the selfish part of him was kind of sad that it probably looked as if he'd just abandoned her for no reason. He should have been satisfied to hear that Cammie was content, but he was irritated that he still knew her well enough to hear the slight strain in her voice that even Bex wouldn't notice. He was horrified at himself to know that she was still hurt. But most of all, he was relieved to know that she still loved him; it was obvious by her tone and the catch in her voice. And he was relieved to know that he still knew her.

Zach Goode was a lot of things, but what he wasn't was prepared for Bex to asking a question he'd heard years before, right before she'd took a tumble onto the ice and Solomon had taken a tumble into the Thames.

She sucked in a breath through her teeth and clucked her tongue. "Okay... Just... Humor me again, Cam. Just tell me... Are you sure you've given up _all_ boys?"

Zach felt Cammie go rigid. He had yet to turn around and actually steal a glance of her, but it was as if they were still connected by some invisible thread, forever linking one another to the other's feelings.

God, he needed to get away from her, but leaving would draw too much attention. She would definitely notice him then. He couldn't stand being able to feel that connection to her while knowing that there was no point to it anymore—that she should have already tied it to someone else. It was killing him inside.

He. Didn't. Need. To. See. Her.

"Bex, _please_ tell me..."

He couldn't take it any longer; Zach turned at that moment, desperate to at least get one look at her before she bolted like he knew she would. When he finally caught her in his gaze, it was as if all of the air had been forced out of his lungs

She looked good. Beautiful. Painfully beautiful. Zach knew that she couldn't have changed that much over the two years since he'd last seen her, but at that moment, it seemed as if she had. Her black dress hugged her in the perfect way that made him never want to look away, and her dirty blonde hair was just as shiny as he remembered. She looked up suddenly, and their eyes met, her cornflower blue clashing with his emerald green.

"_Damn_," he whispered under his breath.

She was gorgeous. She was perfect. She was—

"_Oh my god_," she muttered, pushing Bex, trying to push past the knees of the people already seated in the row, desperate to get to the aisle and flee. But she never broke her gaze with Zach. It was as if she was hypnotized.

When she finally hit the aisle after nearly a dozen jumbled, not-really-meant "Excuse me"s, she took off as fast as she could through the crowded theater.

As their eye contact finally broke, Zach was snapped out of his haze. He made a split second decision almost involuntarily, and before he could stop himself, he was yelling, "Cammie! Wait!"

He rushed after her, half hoping he'd lose her, but knowing that he was an assassin, which meant that he wouldn't even if he tried.

**So it's shortish, I know. But that's just kind of how it happened. **

**Plus my dad's on me about finishing my college applications before I leave again on Saturday, so I should probably do that instead of writing.**

**I hate growing up. I can't believe I'm going to be a senior this year. It seems like just yesterday I was figuring out how to work a combination lock in 6th grade at our middle school. Gah. Anyone else feeling this way?**

**So I'm going to quit rambling and go do something productive. Like go run. Because I gained 5 pounds at Nationals (hey, we ate a lot of celebratory cheesecake, okay?). XD no really though. I've watched way to much Bones and read way too much F. Scott Fitzgerald today. I just need to get up and move. Haha**

**Review? :)**

**~Inez**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I hate this chapter. I'm sorry. And I'm sure you'll hate it as well. **

**Review replies really quickly. You know who you are...**

**Thanks! :) emotional is key to me. Haha**

**Yeah I did learn with her. Sadly, I wasn't quite the natural that she was. XD Why thank you. :) The whole interaction breakdown was what I was trying to emphasize. We'll get more of that later, though. Not this chapter, but the next. **

**Thanks! :) and yes! I can't decide if senioritis is a good think or a bad thing. XD **

**I'm updating! Soon...ish? Thanks! :) and 8th grade? DON'T RUSH IT! High school will FLY by. **

**Thanks! :)**

**Aww thank you so much! Your review made my day! Is my writing really that depressing? I guess I never realized it... But to address THIS story... They'll have their share of heartbreaks. But it aught to have a happy ending. Seriously this time. None of that Zach-has-to-marry-Macey junk. We're all straight Zammie here. Haha. Read happily! Don't let your hopes fall too low! XD**

**Alrighty! That's it! Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! :)**

**We're over halfway done with the story now...**

**Don't throw pitchforks at me, because this chapter had to happen. Not so happy reading...**

_~~~It makes me ache that we had to break... That even though I knew your heart so well, we're strangers, in different places though we live a mile apart...~~~_

"We've got someone for you, ma'am," the gruff man let go of Zach's arm roughly, and if Zach hadn't been himself, he was sure he would have been sent sprawling into the wooden desk in the center of the dank room.

The woman seated at it never bothered to look up from her work, just flicked her wrist in a 'sit down' gesture with the manner of someone who had much better things to be doing than dealing with visitors.

"I assume that you've disturbed me for good reason?" She shuffled through the papers until she found the Manila folder under all of them, then crammed them haphazardly in.

Something must have been very, _very_ wrong. Zach and his mother, as much as he hated to admit, were very similar in many ways. They had the same eyes, the same smile, the same logical and sharp mind, the same need to calculate things, and the same need for things to always be orderly. As she forced the flap of the envelope closed with the metal clip, he twitched in his chair, itching to straighten the papers within and wondering how on earth she wasn't as well.

Oh yes, something was very wrong indeed.

Zach opened his mouth, and at first nothing came out. Then he finally found his words. He cleared his throat. "Word on the street is you're short handed."

Catherine's head whipped up at the sound of her son's deep voice, and her eyes immediately narrowed. She stood slowly, and Zach could see in her eyes that there were some things she still liked calculating. "Well, well, well... What do we have _here_?" She taunted, but Zach didn't miss the way she glanced up to make sure that the guards were still in the room.

Zach chuckled, knowing he had the upper hand. "You can do one of two things. You can kill me like you've been trying to work up the nerve to do for the past six years, or you can add me to your payroll. Either one seems like a good choice, but I must say that the latter has a less appealing ring," Zach smirked cruelly at her, plopping down in the only chair in the room besides the office chair and planting his elbows on his knees casually.

She clucked her tongue, stock still, watching him. She looked him up and down, must have seen the dark circles under his eyes and the way he held his head up reluctantly, as if it weighed a ton. "Ah... Finally took a lesson from your little _fiancée_, did you? Figure out she's exactly the kind of person a man like you should avoid?"

Zach swallowed hard and looked down, studying the cement floor beneath him. His chest hurt when he thought about it—about her. She was the last thing he wanted to be discussing with his mother. His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally forced out, "I never asked her."

Catherine's laugh rang out harsh and loud in the echoey room, and Zach involuntarily flinched.

This was what he had to do. This was what he was going to have to go back to. This was what would keep Cammie safe.

He couldn't know her. More importantly, she could no longer know him. And even if he did stay in DC for the Circle, the city was big enough. Busy enough. They could live a mile apart and still never see one another again. So that's what he'd do. At least until he healed enough to really move on.

_Cammie_. His heart split in half again every time he so much as thought her name. It was as if his body was shutting down without her, knowing that life from then on would be futile.

His mom pulled him out of his miserable reverie.

"Either way, darling, it doesn't make the whole ordeal any better. Kripling saw you at the jewelry store just last week... Yes... Tiffany, eh? She must be _something_ to be worth spending those kinds of fortunes," she sat gracefully back down into her leather chair, and Zach fought the urge to slap her.

Cammie was worth anything. Cammie was worth everything. Cammie _was_ everything. She'd had her heart set on that ring for months; she'd pointed it out to Bex and neither had known that Zach was listening in on their conversation. Of course he'd gotten it for her. It had been pricey, but money would come and go. The look on her face when she saw it would have been a once in a life time phenomenon.

Why couldn't his mother understand that?

Of course she'd been following them. Of course she'd known that he had planned on proposing that very night. Maybe it had all been a part of her sick, twisted plan all along.

"I gave you your options," Zach stated calmly, coldly, "choose one or the other; I don't care. But you have me now. I'm with you now. I'm all in."

It was a lie, and a bad one at that.

"Of course you aren't, sweetheart. You'll never be all in. You can't be while your heart's somewhere else," Catherine all but sneered, expression full of disgust. She tapped the folder's edge against the desk a few times before speaking again, "But I suppose if you want to join our forces again, we might have room for you. Only because we know what quality of asset we'll be obtaining," she searched his face for anything that might give him away in the slightest.

He didn't show anything simply because he had nothing to show. This was too easy. There was a catch coming; he knew it. You didn't just escape the most dangerous terrorist organization in the world and run from them for 6 years to be welcomed back with open arms at a sudden change of heart.

"But before we make any decisions on whether to allow you aboard or not, I would advise you that it might just be safer to go with your first option." She was mocking him. Turning what he wanted most into the most cowardly of actions just because she knew that would make him not do it.

"Damn you."

Catherine let out a light, humored laugh. "Son, you don't have to be the one to do that. You and I both know we're already getting first class seats on the plane to hell."

**A/N: It's short and horrible, I know. I'll update with the next chapter (that may or may not have Zach and Cammie's stroll after the meeting at Carnegie) soon. We're at the lake, though, so we'll see. **

**After being out in the boat and tubing for two hours, my two year old brother (almost three. We have the same birthday in July. 14 years apart. Haha) is now running a 104.5 degree fever. So... Update kind of depends on his wellness. Anyways**

**Review? Please? :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here goes. Sorry it took so long. To clarify from last chapter, since some expressed confusion... **

**Last chapter was a flash back (as is every even chapter). It was right after he broke up with Cammie, and he'd gone back to his mom because he thought that BEING the Circle was the only way to keep the Circle from going after Cammie. If he satisfied his mom, she would let her go. So that's pretty much it. Zach works for the Circle now. You'll see that in this chapter. **

**Make more sense? I hope it does. Sorry for any confusion. **

**Here we go... A few short replies. **

**Thank you so much! I was worried that one was horrible. Haha. And Seth's better now. Just took him a while. Something viral, the doctors said. **

**Thank you so much! Risks are... Well... Risky. XD **

**... Well... I've never read any Gayle Foreman, so I don't know what her "stroll" was like, but this one's a "stroll" in the most sarcastic sense of the word. Haha**

**Did that help any? Less confusion hopefully? :)**

**AHEM... Done. Thanks for reviewing/favoriting/following! **

**Now... Happy reading. Prepare for bipolarness ahead...**

_~~~My best friend's gone; my world has been torn. Won't ever share a name— never be one, but I will always remember the years we spent in love...~~~_

"Cammie!"

She had gotten faster over the two years they'd been apart. Much, much faster. Zach's visual on her was lost several times, but he kept going. He almost had her, but he knew that he had to catch up before they hit Central Park, otherwise he'd never find her.

How she was running in that tight black dress and those tall heels, he had no idea. But her twisting an ankle was probably the least of his worries as she pulled up short to avoid being mauled by traffic. He slipped up behind her silently and caught her arm before fully thinking his actions through.

"_Cammie_," he said again, and she tried to flinch away, but he wasn't going to let her. Central Park South was, after all, the park's border, and he knew she could and would make a dash across traffic if he gave her the opportunity.

"What do you want, Zach?" Her voice was cold and emotionless, and he suddenly realized why she was considered one of the CIA's best spies. She could turn herself off at the flip of a switch. It almost scared him. As soon as the crosswalk light changed to green, he hastily led her across the street and into the more quiet, less bustling trees of the park.

"Cammie, I..." He searched for words, and she was obviously beginning to become impatient, so he stuttered out the thing he most wanted to know. "How are you?"

She let out a laugh that sounded much too harsh to be coming out of the same mouth that the bells from before came from. "I'm _swell_. And you?"

"_Gallagher Girl_," Zach warned.

"You lost your right to call me that years ago," Cammie sneered. Not for the first time that night, Zach wondered exactly how she had become so cruel. He had a suspicion that he knew the answer but just didn't want to admit it to himself.

"No."

"Excuse me?" She shook her head and tapped a foot, obviously wanting to be back at Carnegie watching the Orchestra.

Zach glanced down at her foot, tapping in its tall, strappy heel, and wondered when she'd become the sort of girl to wear impractical shoes. He ran his eyes up the length of her bare leg, exposed by the high slit of her dress; he saw how the low, strappy back cut around to the side, exposing just enough to be sexy and classy at the same time, and he wondered when she'd become the sort of girl to show so much skin.

When he met her face with his eyes again, her expression was stoic and stony, but her cheeks gave away her embarrassment. That's how he knew; she wasn't over him. He still affected her, so she wasn't even close. It was good to know his feelings were shared.

He met her eyes again, their grey-blue depths even more cloudy than usual. "I didn't lose the right to use a nickname years ago. I lost my best friend," he said carefully, gauging her reaction closely.

Calculating. After all, he was an assassin. Calculating was one of the things he did best.

She bit her lip and her eyes flashed, but she wasn't giving anything away. Her jaw stayed clenched, and her foot kept tapping. It was the only sign she gave that she was nervous.

After standing for an awkward minute, she raised her eyebrow. "Is there anything else you need? Because I really wanted to see—"

"What is _that_?" His tone was almost accusatory. Cammie's face flashed in confusion until she followed his line of sight.

He couldn't believe it had taken so long for him to notice it. It glinted in the lights dimly illuminating the park, and Cammie quickly snatched her hand from her hip and hid it in her right. He knew what he'd seen, though. And he didn't like it. At all.

"What's what?" She sounded like a kindergartner that had been caught doing something wrong.

"Cammie. I'm not an idiot." He pushed it out, forcing it through his lips even though a lump had already formed in his throat. He thanked God that his voice didn't crack, even though his world was splintering and tearing itself down all over again around him.

It was sloppy. They made him sloppy. She made him sloppy. He couldn't afford to be sloppy.

"It's..." She glanced down at her hands, then back up at him , searching his eyes as if she needed something to hold on to.

It was too late. Zachary Goode had already shut down, and that was that. He'd already seen enough.

He'd been wrong. There was no way that a wonderful girl like Cameron Morgan would ever want to be mixed up with a wet work artist. Especially not one that had watched her father die.

No. He'd been wrong about it all.

As she realized what he did—how he'd shut her out and shut himself down—her eyes started to look frantic, searching desperately for a sliver of the Zach that she had known. The Zach that had just been there, tender eyed and desperate just moments before.

She found none, just as he intended.

"You... You're... Catherine... She convinced you to come back..." She stuttered, stumbling back a few steps, and even in his emotionless state, he had to force himself not to reach out and steady her.

"No. She didn't need to convince me. I volunteered," he said in the most calm voice he could manage, which was probably his scariest voice of all.

Her mouth dropped. "Oh—oh my god... I have to— I have to go." She stumbled backwards, as if she didn't want to turn her back on him—as if she knew that the Zach that loved her was still down in him, struggling to break free.

She finally turned, as if to go, then paused. She turned back around and threw something at him, which his reflexes involuntarily forced him to catch.

"I am _such_ an idiot," she muttered, more to herself than to him, and she was gone before he could register that his hand was cradling the glittering diamond ring he'd bought just a few streets over two years before.

So many memories flashed through his mind as he stared at it, dumbfounded. Cammie kissing him in apology at the pigeon house. Their first fight. The look on her face when she threw her hat at graduation. Joe and Rachel's furious objections when they told them they were moving in together. The first night they shared the same home, aside from Gallagher. All of the black tie galas they'd attended with Macey. Their movie nights. Their last fight. Leaving the ring with her in the little bird's egg blue box because it was and would always be hers. It all hit him like a wave.

He had no time to yell after her, no time to catch up, no time to beg her to wait. To forgive him.

But maybe that was for the best, because he didn't need yet another opportunity to hurt her.

**A/N: So... Yeaps... Review?**

**I hope you all have a Happy Fourth! Well, if you're in America, at least. Haha**

**So far mine has been spent in the pool. (Including right now. This might be the first Fanfiction chapter ever to be posted in a pool. Haha) **

**So! Review and tell me how your holidays go and what you think'll happen next! :)**

**~Inez**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey, you guys! Here's the next chapter... Which is kind of... Well, you'll see. (It's rated T for a reason. Hint.)**

**I don't really have time to reply to each individual review today because I'm about to have to go somewhere, but I figured y'all deserved a chapter (oh, gosh I just gave away where I'm from. XD ). **

**So thank you all who reviewed! You are all lovely and I really appreciate it! :)**

**One last thing. Zach got his _own_ ring chunked at his _own_ head. Just saying for clarification. XD **

**... Happy reading!**

_~~~"I still think of you. I pray that you are safe. I'm still missing you, but it has to be this way, 'cause I'm not right for you. And that's why loves to blame..."~~~_

Zach heard a light laugh carry from downstairs and smiled as he walked out of the steamy bathroom. He couldn't believe Rachel and Joe had actually agreed to this. They'd _agreed_ to this. Zach didn't think he'd ever been so happy in his life. And Zachary Goode was not one to get exited easily.

"No, Bex. Nothing's... _No_!" More laughs. "I swear, if you—SHUT _UP_." This time, the laugh was more uncomfortable, and Zach had a sneaky suspicion he knew what was going on.

He crept down the staircase, careful not to let any of the stairs creak under his weight. He took a right at the base through the door of the kitchen and saw just what he expected. There Cammie was, pajama clad, leaning up against the counter in front of the sink, staring out of the window into their backyard. _Their_ backyard. He smiled at the thought of it.

"REBECCA BAXTER! I can't believe you would even _say_ something like that!" She shook her head, and Zach smirked, seeing the back of her neck was flushed red as she brushed her hair over her shoulder, pulling tangles out of the near-dry blonde waves.

"Really, Bex. Nothing is—" Cammie froze dead, mid-sentence, but this time not because Bex cut her off. This time, her breathing hitched and she shivered involuntarily, because Zach's arms were sliding around her from behind, and his lips were pressing soft, tender kisses onto her neck, working their way up to her ear.

She didn't say a word as he muttered a smooth "Hey Bex" into her phone, making sure to keep his voice low and rough. He continued to kiss Cammie's neck, enjoying her obvious discomfort and embarrassment as Bex's side of the line went just as quiet as her's had gone.

"Hey, Zach?" Bex's greeting sounded more like a question.

He sensed that Cammie was about to push him away, and he wanted his plan to work, so he restrategized. He kissed her one last time, then bit her right where he'd kissed. She let out a shriek, and he smirked against her skin. Perfect.

"Zach!"

He just laughed, then whispered just loud enough for Bex to still be able to pick his words up, "That one'll leave a mark..."

"_Zach_! Shut up!"

Bex let out a noise on the other end that was somewhere between amusement and disgust, and then finally spoke. "Cammie, do I need to call you lat—"

"_NO! No!_ You're _fine_!" Cammie turned in Zach's arms and widened her eyes at him in a chiding way. "There is absolutely nothing going on here," she insisted, pointing a stern finger at Zach to tell him to behave.

But Zach had always been two things that usually got him into trouble: a breaker of rules and a sore loser.

He noted the way her face flushed as he studied her; he knew by the way she held her posture that she'd much rather just go to sleep instead of talking to Bex, as much as she loved her best friend.

Zach smirked, and Cammie's eyes widened in warning again, but he just took another step forward so that he was crushing her to the counter, then hoisted her up onto it so that they were finally eye to eye.

"Bex, I do not need any bir—" Cammie cut herself off at the last second, noting how Zach's eyebrows rose and his smirk grew.

He understood that she wanted to wait; he really did. Even though she'd never actually told him, he knew her well enough to just know. But that didn't mean that he couldn't have a little fun just to get on her nerves every once in a while.

Quickly, while she had glanced away to look at the clock, he ducked his head and slid his lips to her jaw. At first she tried to push him away, but he just wrapped his arms more tightly around her without so much as pausing.

She finally gave up with a sigh, just deciding to ignore him. Which was perfect. That was exactly what he wanted.

His lips worked their way down her neck slowly, sweetly, carefully, then on to her collarbone. He was about to get her. Oh, yes. He kissed over her shoulder to the strap of her tank top, distracting her just enough.

As soon as his cool fingers hit her sides, she tensed. She tried to swat his hands away, but he wasn't having it. "_Zach_," she hissed as he slid his hands around to her back and he kissed back up to her neck. His fingers found the clasp on her bra, slipping under it easily, but before he could go any further, she shoved his shoulder. Hard. He just smirked and slid his hands back to her hips. He didn't want to make her mad. He just wanted to mess with her, and he knew when to stop.

He was almost there. He already had the finale planned out. Bex went silent for another moment, then started talking about something that Macey had told her. Perfect. The perfect conversation to interrupt. Not too serious, but still semi-important.

He stood back for a second, waiting for a good moment.

"And then she said that Abby told her not to worry about it," Bex was blabbering, "NOT TO WORRY ABOUT IT! Can you _believe_ that?"

But Cammie couldn't have answered if she had tried, because suddenly, Zach's lips were on hers roughly. Zach smirked against her as she protested, but he wasn't letting her go. Just what he'd wanted.

All conversation had been completely cast aside.

"Cammie?"

Another few moments. "Cam?"

Zach pulled away, popping their lips apart with a purposefully loud smack, then grinned mischievously as Cammie stood there, mouth opening and closing, confused and silent.

"_CAMERON ANN MORGAN!_"

Zach laughed, which made Cammie glare and giggle. Bex responded with an "Oh, bloody hell. I _knew_ this was a bad ide—" That was his signal.

"Sorry, Bex," Zach's voice was rough, but it wasn't because he was making it that way anymore, "Now's really not the best time. She'll call you back in a few... I don't know. Tomorrow." Then he took the phone from Cammie's hand and hung up.

She stood there for a moment, letting the silence ring, then pushed him away suddenly and violently. "Zachary Goode! What do you think you were _doing_?!" She glared, but Zach couldn't wipe the smirk off of his face.

This was going to be nice, just the two of them. Zach had always liked staying at Gallagher, but this was different. This was just he and Cammie, and he was, for probably the first time in a long time, completely content while standing there in their kitchen, watching her try and fail to be angry with him.

"I was getting Bex to leave you alone," he reached out and tucked a stray piece of her hair back behind her ear, rubbing a thumb across her smooth cheek.

"Yeah, by making her think that she'd been bugging me for good reason? In case you didn't notice, I was doing my best to convince her than we're _not_ going to—"

"Cammie," Zach laughed, "It's _you_. She knows that you aren't the one she needs to worry about." He moved over to the fridge and grumbled at the emptiness, grabbing a bottle of water and cracking the top off of it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She said testily, hefting herself back up onto the counter. He smiled slyly as he watched her pajama shirt ride up, and she snatched it back down, blushing.

"It means that we need to go grocery shopping," he shrugged, knowing it wasn't what she meant but saying it anyway. They were walking a fine line. He knew it. He had a feeling that this whole arrangement would be like one long tightrope walk.

Safety. He was only living with her for safety. Nothing else.

He needed to stay away from her. He needed to keep himself emotionally uninvolved. He needed to remember that it wouldn't last; he wouldn't be able to keep her forever.

"_Zach_," Cammie wasn't one to get agitated, but she also wasn't one to be patient.

"It means that she knows you aren't like that," Zach shrugged, then took a long swig of his water, plopping down on a barstool.

"Oh, and you are?" Cammie's eyes showed regret the moment the words passed through her lips. She didn't want an answer, because deep down, she already knew.

Zach looked down at his hands and his water bottle, wishing that he could prove her wrong. He'd been meaning to tell her for a while, but he never thought the time was right. And it definitely wasn't then. "Cammie..." He trailed off, for once not really knowing what to say. "I..."

She was staring intently, waiting for him to say something, but eventually dropped her head and nodded. "I understand."

"I'm sorry," was all he could say. "I've been meaning to tell you, but..." he hadn't known how. He'd never felt so exposed or ashamed in his entire life, even when Cammie had met his mom in the tombs their junior year. He shouldn't have been so bothered. He shouldn't have. It wasn't like it would ever matter anyway; he wouldn't be with her long. He wouldn't let himself. He was dangerous.

She looked up at him, bit her lip as she met his eyes. "Can I ask something?" He would have said no, but she didn't give him time to respond, and he was sure that that was why she didn't. "How many?"

Cammie hadn't wanted this in a boyfriend. Or a fiancé. And definitely not in a husband. He could tell she was trying not to show it, though. So Zach just shook his head, looking down.

"Oh... _Oh_. Okay," she nodded furiously, and it nearly killed Zach when he glanced up and saw the red in her eyes, saw the way she bit her lip in uncertainty, saw the way her hands shook slightly as she slipped off of the counter carefully and stood self-consciously for a moment.

He'd really done it this time. He'd ruined it. Their first night sharing a house together, and he'd ruined it.

Later that night, after kissing her goodnight on the forehead because she wouldn't let him near her lips, he laid in his bed down the hall, thinking. Thinking and worrying.

If he could've gone back, he would have tried to explain. He would have elaborated. Told her that that sort of thing was one of the many marks of any Blackthorne boy; they were taught to honeypot without getting even remotely emotionally involved in the 7th grade. It was the main objective of his finals mission that year, aside from killing the girl afterwards. For finals in seventh grade and at least once every year afterwards.

It was horrible, he knew. He was a monster, he knew. Probably the worst thing about it all was that he had no problem forgetting them; after all, that was the one thing Blackthorne trained him to forget. Guilt. But he seemed to have plenty of it when it came to Cammie.

Maybe she would understand if he told her, but he worried that she wouldn't. That she would never look at him the same way again.

Zach laid on his back for hours, staring at the ceiling, thinking about her. He couldn't shake her. He wanted to be closer to her. He didn't like the idea of her shut up in a room with a window by herself at night. There were 27 ways that any average Circle member could bust into the room, and even though they had extensive security protecting each entrance tactic, he prayed that no members would come and test any of them out. That way, he would know she was safe.

But thinking about her in her room alone just made him miss her more, even though she was only yards away. It just made his bed feel more and more large and more and more cold. Zach hadn't ever even considered trying to take advantage of her, he'd just wanted to wrap her in his arms and know she'd be safe because he wouldn't let her go until he woke in the morning.

But he couldn't. Because he was a monster. Because he knew that there was no way in the world that she'd ever be able to overlook what he'd done. She'd want someone pure. Someone who was respectful of all women. Someone who hadn't killed any— especially not many— people in their short lifetime. Someone that wasn't him.

And he loved her enough to accept that.

But until she realized that he was the last thing she wanted, he was going to cherish every moment he could get.

**Well, there you have it... review and tell me what you think? Please?**

**~Inez**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello again! :) Don't kill me for this horribly delayed chapter, please!**

**A lot has happened lately, and I haven't exactly had the opportunity to update. My brother turned three (on the same day I turned a secret age that's well over a decade older than him) and that kept us busy for the majority of a weekend, and since then it's been one huge blurry mess of things preparing for next week (when I start guard, which is basically worse than school, so I probably will be terrible with updating then too) and reading Les Mis (seriously. I read 200 pages today and it took me 6 hours.) So there. My excuses/fair warnings. Summer's been grand, but life's about to start again.**

**TO CLARIFY... These are very much connected together. Each ODD chapter (like this one) is a current-time storyline. You could go through and read them back to back and skip the evens and it would read like a normal story, but the EVEN chapter flashbacks (like last chapter's sweet/sad first night of Zammie living together) are there to make things make more sense and to provide insight as to why things are currently happening the way they are and why people are currently acting the way they are. They don't necessarily go in order (for example, the breakup was shown first, but last chapter's first night of them living together obviously had to have happened BEFORE the breakup, etc...), so you just have to let them fall as they may.**

**ALSO, the engagement ring is very much a symbol. He left it with Cammie because he wanted her to know that he would always love her and that he didn't want to leave—that if he had the choice, he would spend the rest of his life happily with her, but he couldn't, because things just don't happen like that (well... Maybe they do... Hint hint.) When he placed the only thing in his pockets in her hand, that ring was it. Cammie was still wearing the ring because she hasn't moved on. In a sense, Zach never gave her any sort of closure. I mean, come on. If my boyfriend kind of broke up with me to 'protect me,' then gave me an engagement ring (from Tiffany nonetheless), I think I would be expecting him to show back up at SOME point or another to come back for me. Wouldn't you? At least for a little while?**

**I don't know. My boyfriend's never done that to me, BUT I'm sure that I would. If you love someone, you'll wait for them, you know?**

**ANYWAYS. REPLIES TO REVIEWS GAHH THIS IS THE LONGEST AUTHORS NOTE EVER SO I SHALL CONSOLIDATE. You know who you are...**

**I really hope that I cleared up any confusion. I'm sorry! I just write and it all makes sense in my mind because I'm writing it. Plus, I'm a really deep thinker, so most answers are hidden under tons of other crap and sometimes they're impossible to dig up. XD Hopefully it makes more sense?**

**MEN ARE IMPOSSIBLE! I swear sometimes I just want to join the convent. Even though I'm not Catholic. Hah. Which reminds me of Les Mis... I have done nothing but read that book, clean, and play piano for dayysss.**

**Oh my gosh I love you. You're awesome. XD you sound just like me when I read something. Haha. FINALLY SOMEONE UNDERSTAANNNDDDSSS GAH my emotions get so mixed up sometimes that I can't form a coherent review. XD And YES! Well, no, he couldn't exactly tell his Blackthorne peeps that he couldn't take advantage of girls, cause he would have probably gotten killed. BUT! I value purity in a relationship (yeah, yeah. Call me frigid. Whatever. I don't mean the freaky kind where you can't kiss till marriage because that would be torturous and I think that I would die if I couldn't kiss my boyfriend. XD) Yes... Poor Zach's getting sloppy, letting his emotions get the best of him and not noticing that she's wearing his ring until she's already chunked it at his head and gone... Poor Zach. XD**

**Okay. DONE. SWEAR IT. Thank you all for the amazing reviews (I seriously love you guys. Best readers in the world!)**

**Ahem... Wherein Zach gets a chewing from Macey. Happy reading...**

_~~~ "And I can't see you right now 'cause I just can't fake it. I can't be near you right now 'cause I know you're no longer mine. I can't see you..."~~~_

Zach slammed open his apartment door, dropping his best suit jacket on the coat rack haphazardly and throwing his keys on the entrance hall table.

After closing the door, he bent down and picked up the Manila folder that had been slid through the near-nonexistant crack underneath his door. He pulled out the papers that were paperclipped together, then shook the remaining contents out into his hand.

The cash he expected. He always got a prompt payment after he completed a job. But the key was something that he hadn't expected. He turned it over in his palm, bouncing it and testing its weight. A safe deposit box.

He wasn't used to getting anything to help make a job easier, so he almost laughed at the taboo of it. It would be much easier than the mini-blow torch he'd used the time before. That much was certain.

The thought of the Mexico City Safe Deposit Sting made him chuckle. Then, as the flood of exhaustion and emotions that came with being around Cammie finally hit him, he all-out cackled.

Allow one thing to be made clear: Zachary Goode was not one to cackle. Ever.

He put the money in his wallet, not bothering to count it because he knew the weight of it was right. Then he moved to the papers that were in the envelope, walking into his living and dining room and plopping down in a chair at the table.

He needed his scotch, but he knew that he couldn't afford anymore in a day. His dad had been an alcoholic; that was about all Zach knew about him. And Zach didn't want to take any chances on becoming one as well.

He shuffled through the papers, already knowing what the job was and already feeling sick to his stomach. He didn't want to read the file because he already knew everything he needed to know from personal knowledge. He already knew what he was supposed to do; he already knew what he was GOING to do: the exact opposite. The only important detail was the location.

Barcelona.

That was good. That meant no chance of Cammie. He left the next morning. And for the first time in a long, long time, as much as he tried to lie to himself, Zachary Goode realized that there was one mission that he wouldn't ever be prepared for.

He had just gotten out of the shower when he heard a slight noise coming from the foyer. No one else would have heard, but he did. And it made him uneasy.

He eased his way into the foyer just as the door to his apartment creaked open. He was millisecond away from killing the person with one kick when he registered the glossy black hair and slowed his momentum, allowing the intruder to catch his leg easily before it made contact.

"Shit, McHenry. You just nearly got yourself ki—"

"Killed. Yeah, I know. You seem to be good at that," she snapped her gum and shut the door behind herself.

"Just make yourself at home, why don't you," he grumbled, already agitated as she plopped down on the sofa and put her feet up on the coffee table. "What do you want, Macey?"

He sounded exhausted because he was. It was nearly midnight, and he'd had a long day and he had a lot on his mind. The last thing he needed was a lecture from a bitch about his ex.

"Oh come on, Goode. Haven't seen you in years. What's a little chit chat? Catch up?" She leaned forward, propping her chin on her palm and smirking mischievously.

"Macey, you aren't here to catch up and you aren't here to get laid. We both know what you're here for. Go away," he plopped down on a bar stool and poured a glass of scotch, no longer caring about the dangers.

"Since when did you start drinking?" Macey shot off.

Zach raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you start caring?"

"Since you broke my best friends heart and came back years later to scatter the pieces when she was finally starting to pick them up again," Macey snapped, standing up quickly, eyes flashing.

"Oh, because I totally expected to run into her at a charity event in Carnegie Hall," Zach mused sarcastically. He didn't need this. Not right now. Not so soon. He would snap. He couldn't afford to snap.

"Or did you?" Macey walked over, helping herself to a wine glass and filling it with tap water in the kitchen.

"There's wine in the—"

"Unlike some people, I've learned that drinking isn't exactly the smartest thing an operative can do," Macey smiled wickedly, plopping down onto a bar stool alongside Zach.

"Yeah, well you don't kill someone at least once a month. You don't have an insane mother that's out to kill the woman you love." He was angry, and it came out before he could stop it. As soon as it passed his lips, he shook his head and stood up, pacing. "Damn it."

"Oh huh ho..." Zach saw Macey's eyes light. "The truth comes out, does it?" She sounded as if she'd just heard the juiciest gossip of all time, and of all of the gut-wrenching sights he'd seen in his life, a smug Macey McHenry was probably the only thing that had ever made his stomach turn.

Zachary Goode was, debatably, the best spy/assassin of his time. He got things done efficiently and humanely. He never left a trace. Ever. He always had a plan. Always. But at that moment, with one of Cammie's best friends perched on his bar stool watching him as if he was both the most terrible and most hilarious person she had ever had the pleasure of encountering, he had no earthly idea what to do.

All he knew was that he wanted her to leave before he said something that would really screw him over. He wasn't thinking clearly. He never thought clearly enough when it came to Cammie. He couldn't understand why, but he knew that it had to stop.

"What exactly do you think you're doing, Macey?" He asked carefully, sizing her up. Cammie hadn't sent her to him. Not even Bex or Liz would have sent her to his apartment on a Saturday night.

She laughed, and as musical as it was, to Zach, it still wasn't as beautiful as Cammie's. "I could ask you the exact same question," she tapped her fingernails on the granite countertop and raised an eyebrow.

This was getting neither of them anywhere. And Zach just wanted to go to sleep.

"Look, I leave at 9 tomorrow morning for Barcelona. I killed a dad of four this morning, kicked a chick out of here this afternoon, and had a nice little chat with my ex and got a ring thrown at my head an hour ago. I'm exhausted. Would you PLEASE just leave?"

She had the nerve to laugh. "Zachary Goode? Desperate? What is THIS?" She slyly chided, then sobered up. "Seriously though, you want to know what 'exactly' I'm doing?" She raised an eyebrow, and Zach got the sinking feeling in his gut that told him he really didn't. She told him anyway.

"I'm stopping this nonsense now. It's ridiculous," she slammed her wine glass down so forcefully onto the countertop that Zach winced, fearing that it would shatter.

"What are you talking about?" His brain had turned off as soon as he saw Cammie. He had no idea why Macey had expected him to be reasoning rationally at that point, but she wasn't going to go easy on him.

"Really? You've pushed Cammie away for two years now and all you've succeeded in doing is making you both miserable wrecks."

"What are you talking about?" Zach snapped, not liking where she was going one bit. He was immediately on the defensive. He didn't need a therapy session to tell him he was an idiot. He could call himself one, but no one else could. Well, no one else but Cammie.

"Zach, you're it for her. There's never been anyone else. Except maybe J—"

"Jimmy doesn't matter, Macey. He was a douc—"

"Good guy with good intentions. Unlike you," Macey raised an eyebrow, and Zach couldn't help the way he automatically stiffened. Macey really did have a gift when it came to insulting people in the most unsubtle ways possible.

"Good. You agree that I'm no good for Cammie and that she do—"

"She needs you, Zach. Did you even HEAR what I said a second ago?" Macey wasn't one to get frustrated easily, so perhaps that's what made Zach's racing thoughts freeze and concentrate on her. He tried to rewind back to what she had said, but he just found a big void of anger. "That's what I thought.

"I SAID... You're it for her Zach. There hasn't been and never will be anyone else," she looked him square in the eye, and he knew that she was carefully calculating her words.

"You said you kicked a girl out of here earlier. How many have there been, Zach?" He couldn't meet her fiery eyes, and he felt like she was burning holes into his head. "ZACH," she ground out between her teeth. "How. Many?"

He just shook his head, still looking down. Somehow, this was even worse than when he'd done the same to Cammie's question years before. And it had nothing to do with the slap that he got from Macey.

These girls hadn't been missions. They'd been distractions.

"You bastard."

Zach was good at reading people; he always had been, even before he'd reached age five, when the Circle had initiated his training. He could read people's eyes, even if he didn't know them. Even if they were trained to show no emotion, eyes were, at least to him, still windows to the soul.

That's why, standing there, struck speechless (quite literally), he knew exactly what Macey was thinking as she glared at him, chest heaving in anger.

Macey wasn't mad.

Macey wasn't disappointed.

Macey wasn't horrified.

Macey was guilty.

"You know, Preston wouldn't want this for you," Zach said quietly, as if trying to calm a crazy person. Because in that moment, that's what Macey was.

"What are you talking about?" She snapped, doing her best to sound indifferent.

"That slap. That wasn't for me. That was for you," Zach reached out a hand and took her wine glass from her because her hands had started shaking. "Macey, I know I'm a bastard. And you know that I didn't need to be slapped because there's no way I could feel any worse than I do already."

"You don't know me, Zachary Goode," she started backing away, "You may be the best damn assassin in the world, but you don't know me." Her lip was trembling, and her hands were shaking, and Zach was terrified that she'd collapse. Macey McHenry didn't cry.

Ever.

And Zach thought maybe the reason she was so set on pushing him and the truth away was because it was just that—the truth; Zach knew her better than anyone else because Zach knew most people better than anyone else. He didn't have to be around them long for that. And he knew that Preston's death was what was bothering her.

Maybe that's why she was doing the exact same thing he was. Maybe that's why she wanted to mend his relationship with Cammie so badly—maybe she thought that if she fixed their problems, Preston would look down and forgive her for all of hers.

"Macey, it's not going to change anything," Zach sighed, the extreme emotional exhaustion once again catching up with him. "No matter how much you try to push us back together, it's not going to change the way you feel. Only you can change that."

He had no idea how this visit from Macey had turned into a sappy therapy session. He had no idea why he was acting the way he was; Zach was no emotional guy. He tried to ignore emotions as much as possible. Because emotions brought about—

"You have to go see her, Zach. All rumors of my sleeping around aside, you have to go see her." Macey was almost pleading, and had the situation been anything else, Zach would have taunted her about it, because Macey McHenry had never had to plead for anything in her life. But it wasn't a different situation.

"I don't think it will work," Zach muttered, following Macey to the door.

She spun around. "I didn't say you have to try to win her over. I said you need to SEE her."

Zach glanced around to as many places as possible to avoid the question, but eventually he had to answer. "I CAN'T see her," he murmured, looking over Macey's head as he forced it out.

"You have t—"

"I can't keep it up. I can't keep on pretending that I'm okay when I'm not." The words were cool and calculated; they were the words of someone who believed something without a shadow of a doubt.

He didn't want to tell Macey that he couldn't even handle being near Cammie while knowing that she was no longer his.

He didn't want to tell Macey McHenry anything, and she was finally starting to understand that.

"Yeah, well... She can't fake it either. But she needs to see you."

She was gone before he could ask any questions.

**So. There you have it. Review? Tell me how much you don't appreciate my long author's notes? Please? ;D**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long... I've been busy and I've started my senior year (at least the guard/band part of it) and I'm trying to finish summer assignments for AP (still haven't finished Les Mis, muchless started Wuthering Heights, so...) Enough excuses. I'm terrible, I know. I'm sorry. The next chapter will be the fairytale ending. I think. Either way, it's the last for sure. There's only so long a song fic can be. Haha**

**REVIEW REPLIES QUICKLY...**

**You may not be excited for this one... It kinda sucks. I'm sorry. Haha. But I figured that if anyone would get the nerve, it'd be Macey. She's always seemed stronger than everyone in that sense, just like Zach. I think they seem to share that one thing that only the other understands. That they understand one another in that sense better than anyone else. If that makes any sense. Haha**

**Aww! :) thanks! Glad you had a great day!**

**Macey and Zach have always seemed a lot alike to me. (See the paragraph before the one before this) It's always seemed to me that they have something mentally on the same page that makes them more alike than any of the other characters. Maybe it's their frankness or the way they understand much while talking little a lot of the time. But I figured she would be the one that Zach would connect to. She would be the one to be the most like Zach, because she seems to think like him. So naturally, in my mind, I guess I came to the conclusion that she needed to act the same way as Zach to deal with her issues. To try to drown them out instead of listening to them. So that's why she did what she did when Preston died. And that's also why she was the one to confront Zach. Because she's Macey. And she really, truly understood what he was going through. **

**Thank you SO MUCH! You made my day! :) I'm flattered. And I love the word "glorious." Stay awesome! :)**

**Why thank you! :) the whole past/future intermixed thing is something I've been doing for a while now in my actual non-fanfic writing, and I've been dying to do something like that here. It just happened that I stumbled across this song and idea and here we are! Haha. This will be the last past one for this story at least because next chapter is the ending (which will MAKE Zach confront some things). But I'm sure it'll happen in the future in other stories I write. I'm not going to say the s-word because I'm probably going to be too busy with school from now on to bother writing one, but if that DOES happen, it'll probably have more past. **

**SOOOO...**

**So I've rewritten this chapter four times. I really hope it's alright. **

**At this point, I highly recommend you look up the song that this entire story is based off of. It's called "Love's to Blame" by forKing&Country, and it's amazing and it makes me cry. And I don't cry. So. **

**Um... The next chapter's the last, just in case you didn't read the horribly long A/N. Happy reading. **

_~~~"Maybe time will heal our hearts, and maybe after time you'll understand I said goodbye but I love you...~~~_

Istanbul was hot. Too hot.

Of all the times he'd been to Turkey, he'd never felt it quite that miserable.

So maybe that was the reason why Zach wasn't exactly thinking clearly.

Maybe the humidity in the atmosphere was causing his brain to over-process his thoughts and feelings; maybe it was the air of the romantic city that made every part of him ache with loss in a way that he hadn't felt since rejoining the Circle. Or maybe it was the sight of a certain senator's daughter clinging to some random guy's arm and walking into the hotel Zach was walking out of. Maybe THAT was what had him thinking of Cammie even more than usual.

It was the first of Cammie's friends he'd seen since their breakup, and it threw him for a loop. So much so that later that day, halfway though his evening run, Zachary Goode was begging his mind to let himself cave in and call her or see her— begging himself to allow his feet to carry him back to the hotel to find Macey and then get her to tell him where Cam was so that he could fly straight to her.

He was trying to lose his own self control for once in his life. But no matter the amount of yearning and torture he put himself through by trying to imagine her voice, her laugh, her sweet kisses, Zach's mind was much, much smarter than that. He wasn't getting anywhere. And that frustrated him.

He couldn't shut the part of him up that wanted to just throw all cares out the window and be happy for once in his life. But he couldn't let it lead him either. It was a miserable existence.

Wallowing in his thoughts, burrowed deep in his own world of despair, he wasn't exactly paying attention to where his feet were carrying him. His head was down and he was wet with sweat, pushing himself to the edge in hopes that he would fall off so that he could get some temporary relief from his worries.

But right as he was starting to feel the black edging up in his vision, he heard the one voice that he hated most in the world speak. "Back off, Zachary. Can't have you getting taken to the hospital, now can we?"

His mother. The one person he'd lived years trying to avoid as much as possible, even if she WAS technically his boss. He froze mid-stride and turned slowly to face the fiery redheaded woman standing in the street behind him, smirking. He fought the urge to growl out a nasty comment.

"I don't plan on showing up at any hospitals anytime soon," he grumbled instead.

She laughed, and he wondered why on earth she was there. So he asked.

"Oh, can't a proud mother travel to see her favorite son these days?" She smiled with a fake, sickening sweetness.

"You're MY mother, so no. What is it you're really here for?" He already had a sickening feeling building in his gut. Normally, as long as he showed up for the quarterly meetings and completed his jobs, he never had to see any other Circle members. They would slip him his jobs under the door of his apartment and he would do them. That was it. He preferred it that way; just barely in enough to be considered in and trustworthy, but out enough to still maintain personal freedoms without nosiness from the the other members. So his mother taking the liberty to visit?

Something important must have happened.

She cleared her throat. "Joe Solomon is alive," she said, eyeing him suspiciously, waiting for his reaction to gauge. To see if he let onto any knowledge.

"What are you talking about?" He snapped, not giving her anything.

"He just showed up on the grid a few days ago. We don't know why, but we want him gone."

It was all starting to fall into place by then, and Zach was ready shaking his head no. This just made Catherine smile.

"I'm going to be one extremely proud mother. Who else gets to say that their son took down one of the greatest CIA operatives of all time?"

Zach fought the urge to snap a 'not you,' but he bit his tongue instead and just turned around. There was no way he would do this. Not this.

"I wouldn't advise that, Zachary." Even her laugh was demented. And he hated her more than ever as he spun slowly on his heel.

"And why the hell not?" He ground out between his teeth. All he wanted to do was go find Joe and warn him. Ask him why he had put himself back in the Circle's line of fire, and then pull him back out of it.

Just moments before, he'd been daydreaming about Cammie, but his mind was sent spiraling in a furious frenzy at his mom's words, which made him feel out of control of things. And if there was one thing Zachary Goode needed to have, it was control of as many situations as possible. He had to go.

"Because I have four snipers trained on you right now," she sneered, and for the first time, Zach noticed the comms unit in her ear, mostly obscured by her hair. "Don't think I didn't know that you would do this. You always do. You always leave."

Of all of the things that she could have said to Zach without affecting him, she chose the one that she knew would be a complete kick in the gut. And she smiled when she saw that she'd calculated the right dig.

"What's the matter, Zach? Missing that little Morgan girl? What was her name?" She snarled, and Zach clinched his jaw, determined to not give her the reaction she was wanting. "Oh yes. Cameron. Cammie. I wonder how she's doing now that she's all alone. I heard a rumor the other day that her last mission didn't go so smooth—"

Zach's hand connected with her jaw, and she laughed. "For such a deadly assassin, you really are weak. You aught to know better than to wear your heart on your sleeve."

"Don't talk about her. Don't so much as say her name. You have no right," Zach snarled between clinched teeth, every muscle in his body on edge. He wasn't in any state to talk about Cammie. Especially with his mother, of all people.

"Oh, and you do?" She laughed again.

"I'm not doing this," Zach spit out, fuming. "I'm not doing your dirty work for you. I won't touch one hair on Joe's head. You've already killed Cam's father and my father. I'm not helping you kill the man that's adopted both of us. Find someone else," he began walking away again, shaking his head and managing as much self control as possible.

"I'm not so sure that the Circle will be happy hearing about you turning your back on them yet again," Catherine called, and once again, Zach stopped. "They don't like people leaving once, Zachary. They won't allow someone to leave twice. Not even you. You'll pay if you do."

Zach actually laughed. He was exhausted; he'd just killed the leader of Istanbul's most notorious drug ring, paving the way for the next in line—a younger, even more horrible Circle member—to become leader. He'd taken a father of seven, a husband, a son. And he'd seen Macey McHenry, which had made him see Cammie everywhere for the rest of the day. "Let them kill me if they want to. It's not like I have anyone or anything left here regardless."

"Oh no, no, no," Catherine tsked, enjoying the situation immensely. "Killing you wouldn't make you pay. You might as well be suicidal. You've already let us know that when you first returned. No... I'm sure they'll have something MUCH nicer planned. After all, Cameron hasn't been able to bring herself to move out of that dreadfully charming little house you shared two years ago."

There it was again; with those few simple words, Zach was sent spiraling back into a world of love and heartache. He didn't have it left in him to force himself to think that his mom was most likely lying. All he could think about was Cammie Cammie Cammie. And her safety.

"You won't touch one hair on her head or so help me God, I will—"

"Then you'll be needing this," Catherine handed him a small packet of papers, smiling. "You'll receive more after you conclude your job in New York in a few months. I suggest you do your research and do this one right, son. One little misstep, and..." She trailed off and shook her head, making a slitting gesture across her throat.

And Zach knew that it wasn't for him.

Maybe Cammie would understand. After time, if he ever got the chance to explain, maybe she would understand that everything he did was to protect her. To keep her safe. To love her in the only way he knew how.

So Joe Solomon would have to die. The only father Zach had ever known would be killed by his adopted son's own hand.

This one was it. If he couldn't come up with a way to get around killing Joe, after this one, Zach would snap his mother's neck. Or send a bullet through it, one.

Her days were just as numbered as Joe's. Hopefully she had less than he did. And with that small little victory in his head, Zach was able to make himself at least move. He didn't feel any less horrified or terrified or lost, but he did know one thing.

If Joe Solomon was going down, Zach was going down too. And he was pulling the whole Circle down with him.

**Once again, sorry for the wait. And the super long A/N at the beginning. **

**Review please? Pretty please? :)**

**~Inez**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N... I don't really have much to say here, but I would just like to apologize for my once-again late update. Football season/ guard/ calculus/ sickness/ exhaustion/ best friend going off to college. Life sucks right now. Um... Yeah. So. That's about it. I'm sorry for taking forever to write this. **

**Just going to mention this in case anyone's still unaware. The first chapter of United We Spy has been posted on Ally's blog. Ironically, the book begins in England. **

**Next chapter will be the last. I know I said that about the last one, but I had to break them up. My OCDness wouldn't allow me to not give Zach and Cammie the ending they deserve. **

**Happy reading...**

_~~~"And I can't see you right now cause my heart just can't take it. _

_Can't be near you right now cause I know you're no longer mine... _

_I can't see you... I can't see you... _

_I just can't see you right now..."~~~_

"Nice to see you, Zachary," Joe smiled sadly and leaned up against the brick wall, meeting but not quite meeting his eyes, as if debating whether or not he really wanted to see what rested in them.

"You too, Joe." His voice cracked, but he didn't care. He could be as sloppy as he wanted with this one. He wouldn't be around afterwards to catch hell for it. Instead of steeling his emotions, he said what he was obliged to before the real conversation would begin. "You look well."

He didn't. Joe, that is. Zach looked like death warmed over, but Joe looked like death. Period.

Zach wondered for the hundredth time what had ever possessed Joe to put himself in that situation yet again.

"Cammie," Zach said after Solomon returned his compliments. "How is she? Really, Joe?"

The man let out a chilling half-laugh. "Hah. She was actually doing well until you decided she was becoming a little too content."

"Joe, I had no idea we would run into each ot—" Zach was prepared to give an enormous speech explaining how he had not planned on ever seeing Cammie again until Joe cut him off.

Eyes unreadable and posture both relaxed and on edge, he snapped, "You were brash, Goode. Brash is what broke her. As if seeing you again wasn't already enough." And with the tone he spoke in, Zach knew that any discussion of Cameron Ann Morgan had officially ended.

Zach sighed and shook his head, yanking a hand through his hair and noticing that he needed a haircut. But he wouldn't exactly be needing one after that conversation, so he ignored the mental note.

"Why haven't you taken care of it yet? It isn't like we both don't already know what you're here to do." Joseph Solomon had always been a handsome man. He had always aged with grace—right on the brink of completely unnoticeable— and he always looked like man straight out of some sort of magazine ad. But in that moment, the bags under his eyes and the pale ghostliness of his skin gave away his age, and for the first time, Zach realized that Joe really WAS old enough to be his father. The realization was much more of a shock than it should have been.

"I... I..." Zach sputtered, not knowing how to respond. "Because I'm not going— I'm too..." That's when it hit him. The one fault in his plan. Joe would never kill Zach; no matter how far he fell, he was still was the father Zach had never known. So just like that, Zach realized that he was either going to take a bullet from the Circle or his own hand.

He couldn't let that happen.

He stood there in the alley in Barcelona, completely and utterly torn. He wasn't ready to die. He had way too many problems left to sort and way too many lives on his conscience for it to just end that easily.

He flipped his gun in his hand and tossed it to Joe, who caught it smoothly, confusion painting his face.

"Finish it, Joe," Zach's voice wavered a little, and he mentally cursed himself for it. He had to convince Solomon it was the best thing to do, and a wavering voice wouldn't help that.

Solomon's eyes widened as he began to understand the situation.

"Zach, no. I won't kill you," he shook his head more carefully and spoke more calmly than Zach thought was humanly possible. "You don't have to die."

Zach's laugh rang out loud, harsh, and cold in the air between them. "You know as well as I do, Joe. You don't kill me here, they'll kill me there. I can't kill you. I can't kill the only father I've ever known, and I can't live with another father of Cam's on my conscience. I just can't, and they'll kill me when they hear that. I can't, Joe. I just—" his voice cracked solidly, and for the first time in years, Zachary Goode cried.

He didn't exactly remember how, it had been so long. He had forgotten how miserable and vulnerable it made him feel. He wanted to stop. But he couldn't make the sobs stop coming, so he just collapsed back against the brick wall behind him.

"Please, Joe," Zach cried, entirely aware that he wasn't exactly in his right mind, but also aware that even if he had been, he would have begged the same thing.

"Zach," Joe warned, looking behind him, then back behind Zach, checking the perimeter. Had Zach been watching, he would have noticed how Solomon's eyes widened slightly in alarm at the check. But he wasn't.

"Joe," Zach snapped, "I have nothing. NOTHING. I killed my mother, you have your family, and Cammie— just do it, Joe. Please. PLEASE."

Even though he was asking for it, Zach's breathing hitched when he saw Joe lift the gun. The world seemed to stop.

... So this is what it felt like. This was what all of those people that Zach had killed had felt like...

Hanging onto their entire lives by the mere fibers of their last seconds.

Replaying all of their years in a single moment— facing all of their regrets head-on.

And praying all of their last prayers to a God above that they'd never really bothered to think much of before that instant.

Waiting.

Just waiting for the click of the safety.

The flex of the shooter's pointer finger.

This was how it felt to know with certainty that life was such a fragile, beautiful gift.

Zach's breath froze in his chest as Joe clicked the safety of the gun and wrapped his finger around the trigger, moving to aim directly at Zach's heart.

One. Two. Three breaths passed. Joe shook his head, and Zach noticed the glisten of tears in his eyes.

Four.

Joe breathed deeply, and Zach knew that that was it. The end.

Good. He was ready now. It wasn't as if he didn't deserve to die. He'd just killed his own mother the night before. He was probably the best assassin the Circle had seen since Cavan himself.

And he wasn't proud of it. Of any of it.

He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. So he closed his eyes, breathed deeply and counted the milliseconds. He felt the change of atmospheric pressure that always surrounds the moment when someone was about to die.

"No!" The yell rang out and the figure came out of nowhere right as the gun went off. There were milliseconds that seemed like ages, and then the muffled sound of a bullet imbedding itself in flesh.

There was a long moment of silence as the impact rang in their ears, and they struggled to understand exactly what had just happened.

Zach cried out in anguish. The blood was already slicking the old paving stones of the Barcelona alleyway. "Oh god," he shook his head, unable to comprehend what he was seeing, "oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh GOD. Please. PLEASE NO," he dropped to his knees. His mind was firing ninety to nothing trying to get his body to do SOMETHING, but everything just kind of disappeared.

Solomon stood statue still, mouth agape. The gun he had just fired clattered to the ground. "Oh god..."

Hazel eyes flickered, struggling to stay open, and a distinctly female voice spoke in a firm, albeit pained tone. "Hey, Joe? Could you, like, call an ambulance or something?"

This seemed to snap something within both of the men.

The love of Zach's life was laying on the cobblestone street, dying. He pulled her gently into his lap and pushed her hair back away from her face, unable to comprehend anything but her being there, in his reach, yet in pain.

Joe Solomon had just shot his own step-daughter. The man who had run so long and so far away from evil to protect one girl ended up sending a bullet straight into her chest. He dropped to his knees beside her, ripping a piece of the bottom of his shirt up to act as a temporary bandage to stanch the blood flow.

If Zach or Cammie had been looking closely enough, they would have seen the tears streaming down his face, but Cammie's eyes had fluttered closed and Zach only had eyes for the poor broken girl in his arms.

Zach had shut down, but Joe had woken up.

"Zach!" Joe grunted, voice tight through tears. When Zach just kept staring, in a daze, Joe screamed, "Now!"

Zach clumsily fumbled through his pockets, searching for a phone that he wasn't used to having—one that he'd hated until that moment.

By the time he got ahold of the emergency services, Cammie'd gone completely pale, and Joe was starting to look more and more worried.

"The blood flow isn't slowing," Joe said, pulling Cammie into a more upright position and checking her pulse. "And her pulse is off by a fourth of a beat."

Zach ripped another long strip away from the hem of his shirt and changed out the temporary bandage while Joe pulled a small flask of whiskey out of no where and wiped his knife down with it.

"Where'd that come from?" Zach asked, glancing at Joe, then going back to bandaging Cammie.

"The hotel I'm staying in. Always have a flask of whiskey on you," Joe took the bandage away from Zach and pushed the shoulder of Cammie's shirt down to have easy access to the bullet wound, "you never know when you'll need it for something like this."

Zach knew what he going to do, so he kept his eyes on Cammie's face, brushing her hair away from her eyes and rubbing the back of her hand as Joe took what seemed like forever to dig the bullet out of her shoulder. When Joe finally got it, he let out an exclamatory sound of victory, and Zach glanced over, only to shudder and quickly look away again.

A hurt Cammie was something he would never be able to stomach.

It took much too long for the paramedics to arrive; it seemed like years for Zach, but it was really only about ten minutes.

Zach and Joe lifted her up and laid her on the gurney before its carriers could so much as react.

"Sir, we're going to have to ask you to step back," one of the medics pushed Zach back away from Cammie's side as another attempted to remove Joe from her side as well.

"She's my daughter!" Joe yelled at the exact time Zach cried out, "She's my wife!"

Silence.

Silence rang out around them, and all of the bustle of the emergency workers faded away as Joe and Zach stared at one another, shocked at what they'd said, but knowing that to some extent, their lies, in some twisted way, weren't entirely untrue.

"Sir," Zach woke from the haze at the feel of a woman shaking him, "sir, how long has your wife been out?"

"Nineteen minutes and fifty seven seconds," Zach said, still somewhat dazed. The woman gave him a strange look, as if she'd noticed that he wasn't wearing a watch and seemed to have no phone.

"We got the bullet out of her shoulder. We disinfected with whiskey, but you should probably get some—"

"Sir, you shouldn't have done that," a man cut off Joe, shaking his head. "You probably only made it wor—"

Joe had him by the neck in a half second. "I'm a doctor. And her father. I think that I can save her life using any methods necessary."

The paramedics were foolish—Zach knew that already, but then, when he was forced to pull Joe off of the poor man, he knew that this was no place for spies.

"Joe, drop it," he muttered, just low enough for only Solomon to hear, then yelled, "JUST GET HER TO THE HOSPITAL!"

They shoved the gurney into the back of the ambulance, the workers piled in like ants back into their hill, and the doors closed between the two men and the girl that they both loved more than anything.

The police concluded that Zach had attempted to kill her, but they couldn't find any evidence other than a fingerprintless gun and the lack of tears in his eyes.

They didn't trust him to see her.

That would be the last time Zach would see her for months.

**... Intenseness... Um... Any ideas on how this thing's gonna end? Your guess is as good as mine. Review and tell me what you think?**

**— Inez**


	12. Epilogue

**Thank you to all who have reviewed/favorited/followed this journey... I hope you've enjoyed it as much I have...**

**This is almost as sad as finishing GG6. Almost. OH MY FREAKING GOSH GG6 THOUGH. Ahem... Anyways. **

**This is it... **

**I'm considering starting a oneshot series after this. I would do another story, but I just can't handle the updating commitment that it would require right now (as obvious by my terribly delayed updates of this lately). If anyone has any opinions/ideas, PM me or let me know in your review. :)**

**See you next time, and Happy reading...**

**—Inez**

_~And Love's to Blame...~_

The necessity of their meeting was nonnegotiable. There were too many loose ends surrounding Cameron Morgan in Zach's life for him to simply NOT need to see her. He'd lost sanity without her before, and he had the feeling that a relapse would be even worse than the initial time.

That's how, weeks after their meeting in Barcelona, Zach found himself to be taking up somewhat of a permanent residence in the old townhouse that he and Cammie had shared before their breakup.

In the years surrounding the fallout, he'd taken routes twenty minutes longer than necessary to avoid so much as a glimpse of its brick walls, even in time sensitive situations, so when he began returning to it every night after he got off of his new job at the police department, it was a strange change. But it also felt like he'd never stopped living there.

The only downside to his renewed address was the absence of a certain Gallagher Girl. He wasn't really living in the house just to live there—he had his own place in Manhattan; he was just waiting on her to return one day, like he knew she'd have to. He was waiting on what was probably his hundredth time to plead for a second chance.

But she never came back.

Six months after Barcelona, Zach finally have up. She could have been anywhere, and wherever that place was, she obviously knew it'd be the perfect location she needed to stay away from him. She knew he would take the hint.

So he did.

He packed up what little he had, turned in his letter of resignation to the department, and moved back to his apartment, knowing, with a certain weight he had never felt before, that he would never go back home again.

Zach wasn't okay with that, but he didn't know what else he could possibly do. He found himself wishing more than ever that Cammie hadn't shown up in Barcelona.

When he got back to the city, he opened the door to his apartment and flipped on the lights, the warmth of the foyer almost mocking him. He sat his one box—half-full of legal papers from his time in DC and a few things he'd left back in the townhouse the first time he'd left—on the coffee table in the living room, then carried his one suitcase into his bedroom.

The bed wasn't made correctly. It only took one glance for Zach to know that much. The pillows were aligned differently from how he left them, and upon closer inspection, he noticed the sheets weren't tucked the way he had always tucked them.

And they smelled sweet, like vanilla and M&Ms.

A scent that, no matter the time, was distinctly— "Cammie," he breathed, closing his eyes and cursing harshly under his breath.

He looked around the room, then around the entire apartment for other signs of her—how long she'd been there or if she would be coming back, but he found none.

Nothing but a waffle maker on the counter and a bag of peanut M&Ms in the refrigerator, half eaten with the package folded over in a meager attempt to preserve freshness.

He got settled back in too quickly; when he went to bed, he slept too soundly for someone who had just given the last hope of a decent life. Then, he woke up too early.

* * *

Zachary Goode, shockingly, was not much of a morning person. At all. In fact, he had been known to nearly strangle those who woke him too early. (This was an experience that neither Joe nor Grant cared to admit ever happened.)

So when the sun finally cut straight across his eyes at 7:32 the next morning, Zach was more than a little perturbed at the unwelcome good morning call. When he finally drug himself out of bed ten minutes later, he was starving.

And his kitchen was barren. Well, aside from the bag of M&Ms.

He didn't want to eat them. He didn't want to touch them. He wanted them to always be there, a reminder that Cammie had come for him. Or to avoid him at the townhouse. But after about a minute's contemplation, he decided that the waffle maker would be reminder enough, and he grabbed the bag off of the shelf, only to find that M&Ms weren't the only occupant of their paper sack.

* * *

"I'll have a large cup of your strongest blend. Black," he was saying thirty minutes later to the barista at the nearest coffee shop. He tapped his foot anxiously as she rang up the order on the cash register, obviously more concerned with shooting him what he could only assume to be what she considered sexy looks than giving him his change.

"In a hurry?" She asked, smirking, and he immediately stopped fidgeting.

"I have low blood sugar. I need to eat something," Zach lied smoothly, then froze, realizing where his lie had come from. He was vaguely aware of the worker giggling something about how he should have ordered sugar in his coffee, but he was already shutting down.

"Would you like to?"

Zach snapped back into the coffee shop from the past. "What?"

"Would you like to add sugar to your coffee. For your low blood sugar," she repeated, now sounding a little agitated because he had obviously not been giving her the attention she hoped he would.

"I—" he began, but was cut off.

"No thanks. I got him some M&Ms," a voice floated to him from what seemed like a dream at first until he saw the mouth it had escaped from. A pause as their eyes met, then she smirked and continued, "and can you add a hot chocolate to that order?"

The girl behind the counter's mouth opened and closed a few times, mimicking exactly what Zach's mind was doing. "Um... Sir?"

"What?" He asked, as if there was no question about it. But there was a question. There were practically thousands swimming in his head as he tried to sort out exactly what was happening, debating whether it not this was all just another dream.

"Hot chocolate?" The barista asked.

"Did you not hear me the first time?" The voice smiled, but it didn't take a highly trained operative to understand that she was warning the girl. She slipped a package of M&Ms— pretzel and half-eaten—out of the pocket of her peacoat and held them out to Zach. At just the right angle needed to make the light catch the sparkle of the familiar diamond on her left ring finger. Zach involuntarily patted his pocket and felt the absence of a ring that had been there moments before. "Sorry. I couldn't resist."

Zach's breath caught, and his hand shook as he reached out to take the bag. He could feel the cashier's eyes widen to the size of saucers at what was obviously the engagement ring of an extremely well-loved fiancée.

His did the same.

The young woman just smiled up at him, more beautiful than he had ever seen her. Her hand dropped as he took the candy, and she leaned closer to him, as if pulled by some kind of invisible, irresistible force. "Sorry I'm late. Things have just been so confusing lately, but it's all straightened out now."

They stood there, saying everything while saying nothing, staring as if trying to become reacquainted with someone who had become a stranger. Zach saw in her eyes that she was feeling the same things he was—he felt in the air the intensity that she had missed him with, almost as burning as his loneliness.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, she cleared he throat and turned back to the counter. "Sorry. Can I add extra whipped cream to that?"

"For here or to go?"

Zach opened his mouth to say 'for here,' but no words were given chance to escape.

"To go."


End file.
